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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760622">You Spin Me (Right Round, Baby)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/syringe/pseuds/syringe'>syringe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>7th year, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Draco is a brat, Draco is a little bit insane, Drarry, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Hogwarts Era, Hostage Situations, Humor, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, Party Games, Plot, Spin the Bottle, Threeshot, Truth or Dare, Voyeurism, more tags to be added later</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:29:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/syringe/pseuds/syringe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy was caught sneaking around in Gryffindor Tower, and is being held captive until the House decides on a penalty for him. They come up with a game of "Dare Malfoy", in which everyone takes turns daring Draco to humilate himself in creative ways.</p><p>
  <i>And the worst part is, this whole mess could've been avoided if he'd just resisted the urge to go and watch Potter play with himself in bed.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You Spin Me (Right Round, Baby)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello! :-) this is a spin on the classic "party games" trope! my only problem with it is that imo i find it annoying to think that the houses would all just... come together and get sloshed, play seven minutes in heaven togther, or whatever. hence, this story was born.</p><p>i really hope you like it! TT-TT it has three chapters, which i will be posting gradually </p><p>please enjoy! ^^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Fuck you, this is stupid." </span>
</p><p class="p2">Draco struggled against his restraints, the conjured rope digging into the soft skin of his wrists. There was no doubt it would chafe. Damn. His legs, too, were bound securely to the legs of the remarkably uncomfortable wooden chair he was forced to sit in.</p><p class="p2">"Oh yeah?"</p><p class="p2">About a dozen Gryffindors circled him, their wands drawn and a Lumos beam shining down on his face from each. One would think it was easy enough to see a person with <em>one</em> Lumos, Draco mused even as he was squinting against the harsh brightness, but Gryffindors were exceptionally stupid.</p><p class="p2">"Yes, that's why I said it in the first place. Now will you turn your bloody lights <em>off</em> lest your stinking Hero and I are forced to share a physical trait? Clinical blindness, that is."</p><p class="p2">Someone chuckled, thank the Lord, and the charm was removed one wand at a time. Lo and behold, even in the face of a million blinding rays of light, Draco was correct in his approximation. Eleven students, all in scarlet robes surrounded him with Potter standing at the centre directly in front of him. He was smirking, arms crossed over his chest in a way that made his biceps bulge most <em>tantalizingly</em>...</p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">No, Draco. Focus.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2">"Well folks," Potter announced proudly, "it looks like we've got a rat in the tower!"</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The group exploded into peals of laughter and Draco balled his fists tight where they were restrained behind his back. "No, a ferret!" crowed a brash voice towards his left. Weasley, he could tell without having to look.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When a second wave of laughter rose and died down, Potter shook his head, "No, Ron. A rat." He strode forth slowly, one step falling after the other in slow motion. At least it seemed that way to Draco. The brunet was standing directly before him now, his denim-clad crotch directly in his line of sight. It was with great effort, therefore, that Draco managed to keep his eyes strictly on the other boy's green ones. Not jade, certainly not emerald; just abundantly green.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Potter grabbed his chin roughly with his left hand. "At least ferrets are cute. This one here is definitely a rat."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Draco gritted his teeth against the grip, Potter's fingers digging into the sides of his jaw and forcing his lips into a rather embarrassing open pout. Thank the Lord for robes, because Draco's cock gave a noticeable jolt at the attention, albeit negative.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"A Sprague Dawley, too. Fair all over, and. Oh... that's its only defining characteristic, actually," Potter teased, and his friends laughed as if on command.Draco wouldn't be surprised if that was really the case, although Weasley's horrendous bray of a laugh seemed very difficult to fake. And loathe was he to praise that ginger mutt for anything.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Stop projecting and get to the bloody point already, Potter. It's unbecoming of you," he sneered up at his captor. Upsettingly, this did nothing to dampen the boy's spirits. </span>
</p><p class="p2">"Charming, aren't ya?" he said lightly, but at least he'd released his jaw now. "Alright then, if you want to get down to business, we'll get down to business. Can't have the Slytherin Prince <em>denied</em> something he asked for now, can we?"</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In a flash, his wand was at Draco's throat. The hard tip of it pressed uncomfortably into the spot above his Adam's apple. He refused to swallow against the feeling, lest he swallow his very pride. </span>
</p><p class="p2">"I don't care how many fucking funds your Daddy pays to this school. You don't own it. Now tell me, Malfoy," Potter said dangerously, "what were you doing sneaking around in Gryffindor tower, after hours under a shoddy Disillusionment Charm?"</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Draco exhaled harshly through his nose. He met Potter's glare soundly to clarify that he was not backing down before scanning the group behind him with his eyes. Each and every student in Gryffindor looked like a thug to Draco- what else was one to expect from a House characterized solely on its student's ability to showcase brashness and stupidity? There was Weasley with his gangly gorilla arms that looked like they were made to swing about and strike mercilessly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What about Thomas, the ball-footer, or whatever it was that the Muggles called a "game" where you <em>kicked</em> a ball around, with your foot! And the She-Weasel? She was more man than Potter and himself combined, with a wand tapping maliciously against her arm and an snide little smirk on her paper thin lips- no doubt prepared to hurl a bat-bogey hex at the slightest provocation! </span>
</p><p class="p2">Don't even get him started on know-it-all Granger. Draco liked to think she only kept all that horrible hair to disguise the appearance of a garishly deformed head positively bursting with a bulbous brain- Professor Quirrel style. In fact, if he had to choose <em>anyone</em> he'd feel safe with here, it was nancy Neville Longbottom, although the twerp would likely kill the both of them on accident whilst attempting to cast a <em>Wingardium Leviosa</em>! Oh, what a disaster he'd landed himself in!</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Also, Potter was alright, Draco thought. Even if he was the one with his wand aimed straight at his larynx, Draco felt safe with the notion that, when he was stuck in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend from some plebian injury at the hands of Harry Potter, at least he could get off to the memory of it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What, Malfoy?" Potter urged. He did not increase the pressure of his wand on his throat, but he did lean closer. This in turn further minimized the distance between his crotch and Draco's face, and that was decidedly Not Good. That was very bad. "You're the one who was in a rush just now. What's the matter now?"</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He could lie, he thought. It would be quite believable too, to say he was here on a spy mission, or to sabotage one of the players on the Quidditch team, or even just to play a prank on someone. The only problem was that these Gryffindors would likely hex the life out of him if he did. That, or hand him over to McGonagall, judging by the devious look on Granger's face. She certainly seemed like she tattled.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Regardless, while both options were remarkably unpleasant, they were both no match for what would happen if he told them the truth. Hell, even Draco didn't know how the Gryffindors would react to it, given that he did end up spilling the beans.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because how on earth was one to explain that he'd been spending the past week sneaking into the bedchambers of Harry bloody Potter in order to watch him undress, and hopefully catch him beating himself off?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They'd castrate him, wouldn't they? Oh hell, they probably would.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I'll never tell," he sneered, and in a most undignified move that would leave his Mother scandalized, spit up into Potter's face. He'd nearly missed (goodness, that would have been embarrassing), but the bubbling spittle had caught on the very edge of Potter's jaw where it clung to his evening stubble like a lifeline.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Curses to being seventeen, for the sight of his own saliva on Potter's person made his cock stand half-mast.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You little <em>shit</em>!" Weasley bellowed, and Draco's brain had already started up a flashback of his life's most cherished moments before he realized the ginger oaf wasn't going to charge at him, and that he wasn't about to be murdered brutally just yet. He would have to go on to become the Minister of Magic first, and it would have to be a highly trained assassin- Draco had it all planned out already. </span>
</p><p class="p2">"Eurgh, Malfoy!" Potter exclaimed and, in an unprecedented move, reached out to grab his Slytherin tie. If he had been a little more daft, Draco would pucker his lips for a kiss. He wasn't though; hence he only sat stiffly in his seat while the brunet used his tie, a symbol of his House, to wipe the saliva off his face. He released it and the soiled fabric fell back in place, a sorry sight.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Alright then, have it your way. If you speak up, we'll let you go immediately. We won't lay a finger you, and you'll be prancing off to the dungeons without a single hair out of place. And perhaps a couple dozen House Points poorer." </span>
</p><p class="p2">Prefects Granger and Weasley grinned at that, their faces half shrouded in shadow and lit ominously with amber firelight. Warm tones were Draco's absolute least favourite for they not only clashed with his colour palette, but they also made frequent appearances in random Gryffindor hostage situations, as was currently being proven.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"If you <em>don't</em> speak up," Potter continued, "we won't push for answers. We'll simply start torturing you either until you spill the beans, or till morning comes. Capiche?"</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Draco had no idea what capiche meant, and even if he did, there was no way he could dwell on its meaning as he was busy gaping at Potter. Did he say torture? Surely he didn't mean... <em>torture</em>, torture. These were Gryffindors, after all!</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was then met with an unpleasant recollection of several thuggish traits he'd observed on each member of the House, and his blood ran cold. Potter and his dangerous green glare did nothing to help matters despite being his only reprieve from the overabundance of <em>red</em> in this bloody room.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What kind of... torture," Draco said, more than asked. He wasn't <em>scared</em>. He was only practising the virtue of self-preservation. He'd also like to know if his Father would be receiving his mangled carcass in the form of a kebab or a gyro. On second thought, a kebab was more likely of an answer, for he doubted these savages would bother to find a roll of bread large enough to wrap him in.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Focus, Draco!</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2">He gulped, and stammered, "I... I-I mean, don't you lot think you're overreacting a tad? I haven't actually done anything have I? Hurt anyone? No!"</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The group behind Potter began to whisper among themselves while the brunet kept his gaze locked with his own. "Oh, we know how to come up with appropriate punishments, Malfoy. Don't assume you'll be wrongfully penalized."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Draco bit his lip, and finally turned his eyes to the floor; they were beginning to strain. Conspiratorial whispers washed over him while he trained his eyes on his and Potter's feet lying side by side. His own were narrow and long, exquisitely clad in black suede loafters polished to a careful shine. Potter's were trainers. There was nothing else to say about them because Draco simply refused to believe the boy's feet looked anything like the dirt-caked off brand monstrosities they were trapped inside of. If shoes were sentient, Draco's Louboutins would be feeling highly offended in the mere presence of Potter's peasant shoes. <em>Please, sweetheart</em>, Draco thought hard at them, <em>I only care about what's </em>under<em> his clothes, I swear</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"A penalty has been decided," Potter announced, effectively snapping Draco out of his insane musings and dragging him back to the real world where shoes did not, in fact, understand English. (He had a theory that they <em>might</em> react to Italian, though-)</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Draco! FOCUS!</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"We're giving you one more chance," he said, pointing his wand at the blond once again, "same conditions. You tell us the truth, and you're officially a free man. You don't..."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nobody leapt forth to elaborate. Draco was smart enough to figure out that this penalty was to remain a mystery until after he made his decision. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"So," Potter said, "what will it be?"</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Draco kept his eyes on Potter, breathing heavily out of his nose. He could lie, he thought, he could absolutely lie and get away with it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Potter had freckles on his nose. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If anything, a lie would certainly sound more realistic. Who would want to believe that Draco Malfoy was risking house points to collect wank-material in the form of Harry Potter?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The freckles were a light shade of brown and only covered the pasty bridge of Potter's nose in a sparse sprinkle. It was as if it was made for Draco to fit his lips into the shallow arch of his nose, to feel the smoothness of his skin under his mouth and <em>kiss</em>-</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But was it worth it? Perhaps the Gryffindors had some sort of revolutionary lie-detecting artifact on their hands. Lord knows Dumbledore would probably let <em>them</em> get their hands on one without so much as a please and thank you. </span>
</p><p class="p2">-and kiss and kiss him till his lips lost their sensitivity and Potter's face was flushed blossom-pink from the attention.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Alright," Draco sighed finally, and Potter lowered his wand hand to rest at his side, "I'll tell you the truth."</span>
</p><p class="p2">The brunet grinned victoriously and stepped back to join his friends in their circle. Draco eyed him the whole way there.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He then took a deep breath and said, with more confidence than he thought he had in him, "I've been coming here to meet with my lover in secret."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The room fell so silent, one could drop a pin and it would sound like an explosion. Perhaps if his Louboutins talked <em>now</em>, Draco could actually hear them. </span>
</p><p class="p2">Then something did explode. A loud bang sounded and ricocheted off the stone walls. Even as Draco struggled to relieve his eardrums of the aftereffects of the noise, four bright red letters dancing above his head revealed his cursed fate to the room.</p><p class="p1"><strong>L</strong>-<strong>I</strong>-<strong>A</strong>-<strong>R</strong></p><p class="p2">"Liar," Harry declared, and a smirk twisted his lips once again. Draco decided that, at this point perhaps his carcass might be better in a kebab after all. It was a far cry better than a paper bag full of unwashed meat, which was looking to be a far more likely possibility now.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so! what do you think so far? ^^ draco's rather rude isn't he? i love the idea of him being the same prat as he was in canon to everyone (except, sometimes, harry!)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you so much for reading my fic, i'm so grateful to everyone who does. please do consider leaving me a comment to let me know your thoughts! i'd really, really appreciate it! ♡ ♡ ♡</p><p>you can find me on twitter @dracominnie, if you'd like to be friends! ₊*̥(* ⁰̷̴͈^⁰̷̴͈)‧˚₊</p><p>others by me:</p><p>
  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20764577">Foreshadowing (I Really Should Have Seen That Coming) (2.8K)</a>
</p><p>
  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21019106">Father's Eyes (4K)</a>
</p><p>
  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23663806">I've Encountered Something I cannot Deny (16K)</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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